


Closer

by sparrowshellcat



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Character Turned Into Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-28
Updated: 2010-09-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:19:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowshellcat/pseuds/sparrowshellcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a mission in New York, Cougar, the sniper, goes missing off the rooftop where he stationed. Jensen becomes obsessed with finding out what happened to his best friend, convinced that he will be back, safe and sound. When Cougar does come back, however, Jensen starts to realize that something is wrong with his closest friend - he's cold, he doesn't seem to breathe when he sleeps, and his eyes are like blood. Then he starts having the dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For more fic and art, you can follow me on Tumblr! [sparrowshellcat](http://sparrowshellcat.tumblr.com)

  
 

  
It all started when Cougar went missing.

The silent sniper had gone on ahead of them, taking his place on the roof of the office building across the street from their target, sheltered by the darkness of a New York fall night. The city might never sleep, but where the lights didn’t shine, it was blacker than black.

With Pooch waiting in the car and Clay wiring the explosives in the basement, Jensen had worked his way in, hacked into the mainframe, triggered the building emergency evacuation, then watched in glee as Cougar’s expert shots took out the targets one by one as they fled the building. He’d buzzed Cougar with the radio, to tell him good job, and the other responded with a simple “ _De nada_ ,” then – as ordered – they cut radio contact.

But when they regrouped, Cougar wasn’t there.

Tugging his lower lid down so that he could take out his contacts, Jensen frowned. “Cougs said he was gonna be late?”

Pooch frowned, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “No.”

Blinking rapidly, the hacker frowned. “Weird.”

“Mmhmm,” Pooch nodded, watching their commanding officer out through the window. Clay was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, scowling as he spoke rapidly into his cell, glancing skywards occasionally. Presumably, he was speaking to Aisha, who was monitoring the situation from a helicopter overhead. “He never called in to say there was a delay. I don’t like it.”

Sliding his glasses back on, the blond frowned. “Cougs is tough. He can take care of himself.”

“Sure, but you know what the colonel’s like. Ever since LA…”

“Yeah,” Jensen muttered. Clay had always been overprotective of his team. But ever since Roque had betrayed them and nearly caused all of their deaths, he’d gotten almost scarily mother hen.“I know.”

The front passenger door was suddenly ripped open, and Clay threw himself in his seat. “The roof’s clean.”

“So he wasn’t sniped himself,” Jensen said, relieved.

“Doesn’t look like it. Pooch, bring the car round. We’ll sweep the building.”

“Not gonna be possible,” Pooch tapped the front of the police scanner that had been keeping up a slow, static-y buzz in the background. “Been monitoring – _they’re_ already sweeping the building.”

“Shit.” Clay hunkered down in his seat. “Then we’ll wait til they find him. And get him _back_.”

“Yes, sir,” Pooch smirked.

“Can it.”

Jensen rapid fire clicked his pen, toe tapping as he scoured the security footage of the building he’d broken into in the first place, and the one Cougar had gone AWOL in. The police sweeps had found nothing, which could have just meant that Cougar had evaded them, but it had now been seventeen hours and the Mexican still hadn’t made it back to the safehouse.

Pooch was napping, baseball cap pulled over his eyes, and Clay was wearing a hole through the carpet as he paced, calling every contact he’d ever made to see if they knew anything. _Anything_.

“C’mon, Cougs…” Jensen leaned closer to the screen, frowning, “Where are yo – gotcha!”

As one, the other men bolted up, even the “sleeping” Pooch. Crowding in on either side of him, Clay demanded, “Where? Where is he?!”

Jensen tapped the screen with his fingernail. It showed the roof of the building where Cougar had been stationed, and there he was, mostly immersed in shadows, lying on his stomach with his gun, intent and focused.“It was the muzzle flash that let me find him, see…” he touched the screen again as his gun flared with another shot. “He hid well.”

“All right, so we found him. Where did he _go_?”

Jensen frowned, and put the video on double time. They watched the gun flare at least three more times, then Cougar reached up to touch his throat, activating his radio. “That was when we were talking,” he explained.

Clay nodded sharply.

Cougar then pushed himself up onto his knees, to stand.

Then he was gone.

“Woah woah woah!” Pooch threw up his hands. “Back that up! Where did he go?!”

Jensen backed up the video as ordered, then put it on slow motion. Like moving through molasses, Cougar lowered his hand from his throat, flicked the safety on, then rose to one knee. Then even in slo mo, he was there one second, and gone the next.

“What the _hell_?” Clay demanded. “Did they cut it? Was the video tampered with?!”

“Time stamp says no, but give me a minute…” Jensen frowned, confused, and started searching through the file parameters, fingers flying across the keyboard. “Nothing in the file, hold on…” he frowned, eyes narrowed at the screen. “The light doesn’t change _at all_. I mean, it _has_ to be edited, right? But whoever did it is a friggin’ _genius_ , cause I can’t find _any_ sign they did it.”

“Play it again,” Clay ordered, face dark, brows furrowed.

Marking the spots, Jensen flicked the thirty one second section of hand to throat safety on climb to knees and gone video on a loop. Over and over, their teammate reappeared, then vanished.

“Burn that for me,” Clay barked. “I’ll get it to Aisha, she’ll get it out. We _will_ find him.”

Leaning back from the computer, Jensen scrubbed at his eyes, glasses shoved up onto his forehead. He hadn’t slept in three days, and it showed. Scruffy, with an almost beard, he shoved his glasses back into place over his red, bloodshot eyes, and said, “I might have something.”

Clay looked up sharply. “What?”

“Grab me another Red Bull and c’mere.”

The commanding officer did so, slapping the can into the blonde’s hand. Cracking it open, Jensen took a couple deep, relieved swallows, then gestured at the screen. “I’ve been playing with light balance and shit, to see if I could see something else. I threw it into reverse negative, then eliminated the blacks, then switched it back… did a bunch of other stuff I can’t even remember right now, I’m so tired…”

“Get to the point, Jensen.”

Jensen nodded. “It ain’t pretty, but take a look.”

The screen was grainy and jumpy, but Cougar was still visible at the bottom, lying on his stomach with his gun. “Look here,” Jensen tapped the opposite corner. “Does that look like a person to you?”

Clay squinted at the dark shape. “It does look vaguely person shaped.”

“Yeah, well, I put this video through hell. Okay, now watch.” He flicked the video to 1/60th speed. Now Cougar almost looked like he wasn’t even moving at all as he rose to his knees. “Watch the person in the corner… watch.”

Rapidly, as if at a full run and as if the video wasn’t slowed to a second in a minute, the shadow raced forward, then quite obviously wrapped its arms around Cougar’s torso, lifted him up like in a bear hug, then dashed back the way it had come, carrying Cougar with it, until it disappeared off screen.

Jensen flicked the video off.

“What the hell was _that_?!”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Jensen sighed. “But that’s all I got.”

“What the hell was _that_?!” Clay said again, making the blonde look up at him, frowning slightly. “Nothing can move that fast!”

“Nothing human,” Jensen quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

“Don’t you start,” he pointed at him sharply, and the Corporal wilted. “This must have been some kind of editing trick to throw us off the trail of what really happened to him. Keep searching, got it?”

“Yes sir.”

Clay just glowered at him, but didn’t tell him to stop doing it like he always did with Pooch.

When Jensen finally fell to sleep after nearly five days of a Red Bull fueled buzz, he was plagued by weird ass dreams that just didn’t make sense.

Cougar was dressed in an immaculate white doctor’s jacket – immaculate, that was, except for an arch of fresh arterial blood that had splashed across his chest. It was so fresh that Jensen swore he could still see it dripping, could still smell it in the air. He looked exactly like he had in Budapest, actually, when he and Jensen had been assigned to that undercover assassination at that dentist’s office. When Jensen had stabbed the guy in the throat with a dental pick (desperate times called for desperate measures) the resulting arc of blood had done exactly this.

This time Cougar was wearing his hat, though.

“I need to hear your heartbeat,” he was saying, lifting the stethoscope off the counter. “To make sure it’s strong enough.”

“Sure,” Jensen tugged up his shirt.

Instead of using the stethoscope, his friend pressed his ear to Jensen’s chest, frowning. “Oh good, it’s already stopped. Yes, that is a very good sign.”

“You’re talking an awful lot,” Jensen frowned, cold now.

“Of course, I am your doctor. Now a blood sample.” He took a scalpel, and slashed Jensen’s wrist open. Blood bubbled up instantly, and began dripping off his wrist and splashing on Jensen’s jean-clad lap. “Mmm. Iron rich. Bit heavy on the caffeine though.”

“Cougar doesn’t talk this much.”

“Of course, of course…”

Jensen knew now he was dreaming and strained to wake up. “You aren’t really Cougar. Cougar doesn’t talk like this.”

He smirked, and leaned in closer. He smelled like death and rot, and the blond recoiled. “Maybe Cougar _wants_ to talk to you like this.”

Nose curling at the smell, he snapped, “If Cougar talked this much to me, it’d all be in Spanish.”

Dream Cougar-not-Cougar laughed. “All right. I approve.”

“Of what?” Jensen blinked.

He tugged off the cowboy hat then, and he was suddenly another man – taller, broader. Balder, actually, and Jensen was overcome with the desire to snicker and call him the Scorpion King, but before he could think of such a thing, Cougar – the real Cougar, he was sure of it, was behind him, and twisted Jensen’s neck, snapping it.

He bolted awake with a yelp, the laptop screen still glowing as it worked despite the button mashing he’d been doing with his face.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, hands trembling.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Eyes half lidded and red behind his glasses, which had slid down almost to the very tip of his nose, Jensen flipped through each frame of the video, frame by frame by frame. It was so _slow_ , so painful… yet even doing this in a strange slow motion flip book motion, the shadowy shape zipped by so quickly, and Cougar was gone.

Finally, he focused in on Cougar’s face, leaning closer to the screen. Maybe Cougar saw it coming. Maybe that would give him some hint on how fast it was really moving.

Finger to throat, finger down…

Eyes flicked to the left.

Jensen bolted forward, sure he’d seen it, flicking the frame back and forth and back – no, he was right. Cougar saw whatever was coming at him. His eyes had turned towards the shadow, and Cougar’s lips parted, he could see the moment – _shit_ , Cougar had seen him coming! He knew that Cougar had fast instincts, but damn, that was impressive. 

“C’mon, Cougs, where _are_ you, huh?”

Fingers scrabbling at the dirt, Jensen tried to scream as he clawed at the thick, wet soil, fingernails cracking as he struggled. There was no air in his lungs to scream with, and dirt kept trickling down his throat, filling every bitof his lungs.

 _Save me_! He tried to scream. _I shouldn’t be under the ground, please, please, someone help me!_

But there was no one there.

His fingers were bleeding, and he could feel his lungs filling, but there was dirt in his eyes, and dirt in his ears, his nose… it _hurt_. He wanted to be in the air, he wanted to breathe.

 _Please! Cougar! I know you can save me_!

“Come, chico.”

 _I’m **trying**_! He tried to wail, fingers closing around a rock, trying to drag himself up, trying to use it to drag him out of the soil. It was heavy and wet, like trying to swim through half set concrete. _Please, Cougar_ …

“You have to come to me, chico.” He didn’t know why his friend was talking so much, but at least it gave him something to aim for. 

_Where **are** you_? He struggled, and his fingertips hit air.

“Almost there, Chico. You have almost found me. Now come to me.”

Bloody fingertips buried in the grass, Jensen pulled desperately, and slowly, muscles aching and protesting, he pulled himself free from his earthen shroud, hacking and gasping at the air, coughing up mud as he sucked in air, desperately.

“Jensen, chico.” A familiar hand touched his face, tilting his head up.

Gasping for breath still, Jensen looked up at his best friend, trembling as he was half buried in the soil still. Cougar was smiling slightly, lips quirked as he considered him. “Cougs.”

“Si,” he nodded, and bent to cup his jaw with both hands. “Stop struggling, chico. You do not need to breathe. Stop being afraid.”

“Wh-what?” he panted, confused. 

“You do not need to breathe,” Cougar said again, reaching back to pull one of Roque’s old knives from his belt, the vicious one he’d tried to kill Clay with at the pier in Los Angeles. “Stop trying,Jensen,” he said firmly, and plunged the blade into Jensen’s temple. 

Jensen screamed.

“Fuck!” he bolted up, eyes wide, shaking like a leaf. Red Bull was spilled across the table, and his head had landed in it. His temple was wet and sticky, and for a moment, his heart sped up as he thought it was actually blood. It wasn’t, it was only energy drink, he realized, as he touched his wet fingertips to his lips, but his heart didn’t calm as he slumped back in his seat, eyes wide.

“You need to get some sleep, Chico,” Pooch sank with a graceless flop into the chair beside Jensen’s, handing him a cold bottle of beer as he did. “You’re starting to look like hell.”

“Thanks,” Jensen snorted, cracking the cap off the bottle and taking a grateful swallow. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Pooch took a long swallow of his own bottle. “You haven’t slept in days.”

“I’ve slept.”

“In a bed?”

“No,” Jensen frowned, flicking a couple more algorithms into the code.

“For more than an hour at a time?”

“Well, no.”

“Without waking up screaming?”

Jensen looked up sharply.

“We’re not _deaf_ , Jenny,” Pooch groaned, stretching. “Look, I know he’s your bro and that you’re the last one to talk to him, and all, but… pushing yourself like this isn’t helping him at all. You have to stop blaming yourself, Jenny.”

“It’s not like that,” he muttered, embarrassed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

“Oh, really?” he arched a brow. “So you’re _not_ having nightmares about all the horrible things that might have happened to him?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, quietly. “I just – I gotta find him, Pooch. S’all.”

“It’s been ten days, Jenny.”

“Nine,” he corrected him, quickly. “And twenty one hours.”

Pooch sighed, running his hand over his bald head in exasperation. “Fine. But after all this the time, Jenny… maybe it’s time to accept – “

“I don’t have to accept shit,” Jensen said sharply. “Last time he went missing on a mission, he was gone three weeks, and he still made it back. Just fine.”

“Last time, you were _with_ him,” Pooch said, quietly. “And that was in Iraq, not downtown New York.”

“So it was more dangerous! He’s fine?”

“You were just lost, Jenny. Not possibly kidnapped.”

“He’s _fine_!”

“And if he’s not?”

Pooch was clearly not trying to hurt him. Jensen knew that, he wasn’t stupid. He knew the pilot was just trying to brace him, just in case. Really, it was kind of the other man, trying to prevent his hopes from getting too high. It was a harsh reality they shared – it was dangerous to harbor things like hope.

But Jensen was _sure_ Cougar was out there, somewhere, all right, trying to get back to them.

He _had_ to be.

“He is,” Jensen took another swig of his beer, then say up properly, setting back to work.

“Jenny…”

“He’ll be back, Pooch, you’ll see.”

“He’s _still_ not awake?!”

“I shook him! What more do you want me to do, fire off a shot beside his head?”

“I approve of that plan.”

“You _would_.”

“Hey! Watch it!”

Jensen shifted slightly in the creaky antique bed that had been deemed ‘his’ in their safe house, frowning slightly. Clay and Pooch had literally strong armed him into it on day fourteen, demanding that he get some damned sleep. He’d protested, naturally, but after fourteen days (fifteen, really, if you counted the day before the mission when he’d been too much like a kid on Christmas eve to sleep) of fitful micronaps only, he hadn’t really been up to making much of a resistance. Once his head had hit pillow, he’d passed out in a matter of seconds, and in seconds more was completely dead to the world.

But all this yelling was interfering with his nice sleep.

“Look, if we don’t wake him up, he is going to fucking _kill_ us in the morning!”

“Well, what do you suggest we do then, smartass?”

The door closed with a soft _snick_ , muffling the voices, and even still mostly asleep, Jensen relaxed. A moment later, a cool hand rested on his shoulders, and a soft voice drawled in Jensen’s ear. “M’home, chico.”

The last traces of tension slid out of Jensen’s body, and he sighed softly. “Cougar…”

“Si. Sleep.”

He sighed again, and if the other said anymore after that, he didn’t hear it.

When Jensen woke again, it was night.

His second floor bedroom was cool and dark, the only light the soft green glow of his alarm clock beside his head on the nightstand, the only noise the soft chirping of frogs and crickets outside the open window. He’d questioned the wisdom of an old house in the country as their safe house at first, but now it was a relief.

Pushing the quilt some well meaning teammate had laid over him off, he sat up, stretching and yawning. 

Rubbing at his eyes, he waved at the other bed, still yawning as he said, “Morning Cougar.”

The other, sitting with his back against the headboard, arms crossed, nodded.

And then Jensen realized what he’d just done, and bolted forward, grabbing frantically for his glasses, shoving them haphazardly on his face, almost stabbing himself in the left eye. Twice. “ _Cougar_?!”

He nodded again, then nodded: “Si.”

“Holy shi – am I dreaming again?!” he pinched himself, hard, and yelped. “Are you real? I mean, you know, are you really here?!”

Cougar snorted, and nodded. 

Scrambling off his bed, and scurrying over to Cougar’s, Jensen sat on the edge of the other’s mattress. “Can I – ?”

He shrugged.

Reaching out, Jensen wrapped his fingers around his best friend’s arm, cooled by the night air, groaning softly in relief. “You’re real, Cougs.”

With a smirk, he nodded. 

Slumping back to the bed, Jensen started to laugh, whole face lit up as he grinned. “ _Fuck_ , Coug, you had me so damn worried! What _happened_ to you?!”

“No,” Cougar said softly.

Tilting his head to look up at him, he frowned. “Don’t want to talk about it, huh?”

He shook his head, a pained expression flicking across his face. 

Scrambling up, he frowned. “But are you okay now? I mean, all in one piece, and everything?”

Cougar shrugged with one shoulder.

“Well, you’re not gonna drop dead on me, are you?”

He smirked again, and shook his head. 

“Good enough for me,” Jensen grinned at him, bouncing slightly. The look on his face was fully child who just got a puppy for Christmas, and he was smiling so wide it seemed fair set to break his face in two. “I missed you so much, Cougs. I guess you never really realize how much you miss someone until they’re gone, huh?”

Cougar’s nostrils flared as he arched a brow, as though about to laugh, but instead, he said, “Liar.”

“What?” I totally missed you!”

He rolled his eyes, and gave the other a pointed look.

“Oh… you mean the appreciation thing. Okay, yeah. I appreciated you plenty _before_ you went missing. But still!”

The sniper snorted.

“I – Cougar.” He sighed softly, wearily. “…you’re really back though, right? I mean, you’re really back, right?”

He nodded.

“You won’t disappear again?”

Cougar hesitated, biting his lower lip slightly, frowning. “Mm.”

“Cougar?” Jensen twisted to sit up, frowning as he considered the other man, a genuinely worried expression on his face, scared. “You won’t leave again will you? Promise me you won’t leave again.”

“Chico…”

“If you won’t stay, you have to _promise_ that you’ll take me with you if you leave. Even if it’s for some stupid case, or you have to run to grab some guy that was shooting at us. You _have to promise_ to tell me you’re leaving and let me catch you, okay?”

“…si.” Cougar nodded, and reached over to pat Jensen’s shoulder, firmly. 

He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Okay.”

The sniper smirked, considering him. Reaching up, he tapped Jensen’s forehead. 

“What? Is there something there?” he crossed his eyes, trying to see his own forehead. He utterly failed.

Cougar shook his head, and tapped it again. “Marks.”

“ _Oooh_ , yeah…. I kept falling asleep on my keyboard. Yeah. Got lots of weird little marks from the keys and stuff. Fortunately I don’t think they’re going to last very long. Should be gone soon.”

He nodded, amused.

“Mmm… I’m starving. You?”

Cougar shook his head, no.

“Hm. Thirsty?”

His nostrils flared again, and he sighed softly. “Si.”

“Well, what do you want to drink, then? We could get you something… we have coffee, beer, water, orange juice unless Aisha drank it all, she’s been kinda doing that lately… hn…” he stood, considering that. “Well, let’s just check the fridge, and see what we’ve got.”

Cougar hesitated, but stood, and quietly followed him downstairs. 

Jensen definitely bounced as he headed down the stairs, grinning eagerly. He _had_ been right for once, which was awesome as it was, so he bounded downstairs happily. This was _great_. This was _awesome_. Darting into the dark kitchen, he dug in the fridge, peering in amongst the scattered stuff, considering. “Oooh… purple drink of some unknown variety…”

Cougar leaned in over his shoulder, peering in the fridge with him.

Glancing up at his friend, his grin faltered. 

Cougar’s eyes were dark, but not black. Jensen had noticed this the first time they were introduced, and the Mexican had silently looked at him, then looked away. Figuring that the sniper wasn’t really a man of many words – very unlike Jensen himself – he had set about trying to figure out how he _did_ communicate. And for Cougar, it wasn’t even really body language – it was all about the eyes. So he’d studied them a lot over the years they’d known each other, and he was pretty sure that if he had to, he could totally chart every single paler gold fleck in Cougar’s brown eyes.

They were blood red now.

No gold flecks, no soft shifting from dark brown to paler goldish brown. All one colour, flat across, the exact colour of the arterial blood that had been splashed across his jacket in that dream…

Jensen bolted up, startled, gasping. Cougar had somehow moved quickly out of his way, watching him, brows furrowed slightly. 

Swallowing, he murmured, “…s-see something you want to drink?”

Cougar tilted his head to the side.

Licking his lips, he murmured again, “Cougar?”

“Si,” he nodded, then abruptly turned and stepped out of the room. Still standing in the middle of the kitchen, feeling stiff and unable to move, Jensen watched his friend head up the stairs, moving in that solid, fluid, cat like way that he always did. It wasn’t until Cougar was gone that he slumped against the fridge, groaning. 

_Red_ eyes?

That was new. 

And alarming.


	3. Closer - Part Three

  
Jensen lay in bed, frowning, watching the ceiling and the light green glow on the stucco, trying to figure out how it played against the texture, creating strange patterns. He was exhausted, and knew that he should be sleeping, but the crickets, the frogs, and the birds had finally fallen silent for the night, and he couldn’t get to sleep now. 

Probably way too caffeinated, still. 

Sighing, he tossed his arm over his eyes, trying to sleep. But the problem was that, no matter where they went and how much they travelled these days, he nearly always slept in the same room as Cougar. And when he was trying to sleep, he always heard Cougar’s breathing. Soft and gentle, steady and even. He was used to the sound, could chart it, could describe it. It helped him sleep.

But Cougar wasn’t in the room, otherwise he’d be finally falling to sleep, listening to the soft lulling softness of his friend’s breathing.

Sitting up, he groaned. He had to go find Cougar. It would at least let his restless mind stop racing.

Climbing out of bed, Jensen froze.

Cougar was _in_ his bed.

Blankets tugged over him, eyes closed, he lay on his bed, dark hair spilled out across his pillows like a feathery fan. 

But his chest wasn’t rising and falling, and when he nervously touched his skin, it was room temperature – vaguely cold, almost clammy, like tepid water. He was dead.

“Oh my god!” he yelped, and bolted back, horrified. Cougar had promised that he wasn’t going to – he _wasn’t going to drop dead_!

Abruptly, Cougar shifted, and made a soft panting sigh.

Jensen yelped, and crashed to the floor.

There was a soft shifting of the blankets, an almost insidious, terrifying sound in the darkness now, and Cougar leaned over the edge of the bed, hair sleep tousled, face creased by the pillows, eyes sleepy and tired – and almost burning red in the darkness. “Chico?”

“C-Cougar?”

He arched a brow, as though asking Jensen what the hell he was exactly doing.

He groaned, and slowly sat up. “Sorry, I – I must have had a nightmare, or something, because… I thought you weren’t breathing.”

Cougar sighed, and flopped back in the bed. 

“Right. Stupid.” He nodded, and headed back to his own bed, curling under the blankets, and burrowing his head under his pillow, keening softly, trying to hide the sound of complete silence.

The waves were sweeping up onto the beach, the foamy edges of the waves just brushing their toes, turning slowly to clear water as it slid, sandy and gritty over their feet. It was a soft, soothing, relaxing sound, like the soft lub-dub of the blood in a human heart. 

Jensen sighed, fingers folded on his chest, smiling up at the sky, which was bluer than he’d ever seen it before. “Odd, isn’t it,” he murmured, “That it’s daytime and all the stars are out?”

“Stars never go away,” Cougar murmured beside him. “They’re always out.”

“Oh, are you talking a ton again? Okay. Guess you’re not-Cougar again.” Jensen reached up to shove his glasses further up his nose, considering the sky. “Is that Orion’s belt?”

“Yes.” Cougar nodded, considering the stars. 

“Huh. How are you gonna kill me tonight, Cougs?”

“Haven’t decided. Look, the ursa major. Big bear.” He pointed up at the sky, and Jensen’s eyes followed his hands.

“That’s not the big dipper,” he frowned. “…that’s just a giant bear made out of stars. Like… actually a giant bear made out of stars. That is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Cougar snorted. “You’re the one dreaming, chico.”

“Okay, then I was thinking. You said you approved. Then how come you keep… fucking with my head? I mean… you are _not_ my brain’s version of Cougar. He’s all… quiet, and somber, and solemn. The tall… well, short…dark, handsome, brooding man. The only person I completely trust in the whole friggin’ world. You ain’t him. I mean, you look like him. But you don’t… carry him right. And you _talk_ too much.”

He snorted.

“See, _that’s_ a Cougar reaction. He’d snort, or snicker, or smirk…” Jensen sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Who _are_ you?”

“Not yet.” 

Jensen glanced over at him, then yelped in shock as he realized that Cougar-not-Cougar had shifted, and slammed a massive rock down on his face, glasses shattering as his whole head caved in under the weight.

He snapped awake, shoving his knuckles into his mouth, biting down on them hard as he tried not to scream. 

A soft, cool hand on his jaw should have made him jump, but instead, he curled into Cougar, breath rasping. He didn’t know why he always did this, why he kept waking up in a panic. He’d dreamed of death before. But now he was screaming every time, just like he used to, when he first joined the team, and he’d almost been killed… 

“S’okay, chico,” Cougar whispered in the darkness, and Jensen closed his eyes tightly. 

“Jenny? What the hell are you doing?”

Jensen glanced up from his computer, a piece of the wrap around his burrito hanging from the corner of his mouth. “Mm?”

Clay snorted, and shook his head. “What are you doing?”

“Um… eating burrito.” He held it up. “Chicken. S’tasty. Pooch made them. S’more in the kitchen, if you’re hungry.”

“I already had some. I meant _this_.” He tapped the top of the computer screen, frowning slightly. “I thought you were working on that video of Cougar going missing still. So that we could figure out who did it, remember? I know he’s back, but he’s not exactly talking, and we still need to figure out who the hell has got a grudge against the Losers _this_ time.”

“Um.” Jensen glanced at the screen, swallowing. “I’m taking a break. To eat burritos.”

“And read about…” Clay leaned closer, peering over his shoulder at the screen. “Zombies. Zombies, Jensen? Are you kidding me?”

“I like sci fi,” he muttered. “But zombies is a bust, anyway.”

He frowned down at the younger man. “Seriously?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what kind of thing would have red eyes. You know, like monsters, or creatures, or things.”

“Animals sometimes have red eyes.” Clay pointed out.

“Naw, not animals. People shaped.”

He snorted. “Vampires.”

“Vampires don’t have red eyes!” Jensen turned in his chair to roll his eyes at his commanding officer. “That’s just – what vampire has red eyes? C’mon. Vampires don’t have red eyes.”

“What vampire movies have _you_ been watching?” Clay snorted, pushing off the back of Jensen’s chair, stretching. “Now. Get back to work on that damn video. I want you to figure out what exactly caused that effect, because I am not paying you to read Wikipedia.”

“Um… technically, you don’t pay me,” Jensen leaned back, frowning. “Well, you did. For that job. But not for this.”

“Maybe I should _start_ paying you. So that I can stop paying you.”

He snorted. “But it’s burrito time!”

“Jenny…” he glowered at him. “I don’t want this thing coming back. The last thing we need is him to go missing again. Or for you or Pooch or Aisha to – “

“He can totally take Aisha!” Pooch called from the kitchen. 

“Oi!” she yelped from the same room, and there was a smack of skin on skin, then a rather girlish yelp from Pooch.

Jensen winced. “…you sure you don’t want it to take Aisha?”

Clay hesitated, considering the door with a look of trepidation. “…no. It shouldn’t take her either.”

“Your balls are on the line, _sir_ ,” he shrugged, yawning. 

“And get more sleep.”

“I’m not tired…”

“Liar. If you ain’t gonna work on the damn video, then go to bed. I need you to be fresh, all right?”

He nodded, grumpily.

“…what are you doing?”

Jensen waved. “Hi, Pooch.”

“….Clay said you were sick.” He frowned, setting a tray on the bedside table, making Jensen look up at the scent of the food. Chicken soup – from a can, but it was still pretty tasty – and buttered toast and apple juice. “So you’re in bed. You do _not_ look sick.”

“I’m exhausted. That, these days, counts as being sick.” He glanced up from his book. “You brought me food!”

“Food that was supposed to make you healthier, yeah… why are you reading _Twilight_?”

“Research,” he grunted, reaching over to grab one of the pieces of toast, biting down, eagerly. “Mmm, good toast. Thanks.”

“Yeah… research for _what_?”

Jensen _did_ look up at that, hesitating. “Okay. Hear me out. You know how Cougar went missing for like… a long time, right?”

Pooch snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah… he did…”

“And in the video, something _really really_ fast came in and carried him off, right?”

“Presumably,” he shrugged, grabbing one of the other slices of toast, tearing parts of the crust off and eating them despite the evil look Jensen gave him. “I _made_ it, and you’re not really sick. Relax.”

Jensen pouted, but continued. “Okay. Well, he doesn’t eat anymore, or drink anymore. At least not that any of us have seen. And I’ve been hanging out with him… not as much as normal, actually. He’s kinda creeping me out.”

“Creeping you out.”

He nodded, swallowing. “I woke up one day, and he was passed out. And he wasn’t _breathing_.”

“You were dreaming again.”

“No… pretty damn sure I wasn’t. Pretty sure he wasn’t breathing. And it scared the crap out of me. He wasn’t even _warm_ anymore, he was room temperature and he wasn’t breathing and – his eyes are red. And Clay pointed out that he probably isn’t a zombie, so I did some thinking, and he’s more likely – “

“Did you just say that Clay said that Cougar isn’t a zombie?”

He hesitated. “Well… not _exactly_ …”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You are so insanely _weird_ , Jenny. Seriously.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “So I’m pretty sure Cougar is a vampire.”

“Cougar is not a vampire.”

He brandished the book at him. “He _is_!”

“Because _Twilight_ said so?”

“….um…”

“Give me a break, Jenny. Does Cougar make you think of _Edward,_ or does he make you think more of Jacob, hmm?”

Jensen blinked, eyes widening sharply. “Oh my god, Cougar is a _werewolf_!”

Pooch groaned. “He is _not_ a werewolf, you freak. I’m just pointing out how incredibly stupid it is to try and take advice from a book written for teenaged girls who for some reason crave abusive relationships. Seriously. Forget it. I get you’re freaking out about Cougar disappearing and nearly getting lost and all, but… he’s back. Do you _really_ need to look for every possible thing that could be wrong with the fact that he’s back?”

“He’s not _him_ though!”

“No, Clay was right. You _are_ sick. Eat your soup and get some sleep.” He stood, and snatched the book out of his hand. “And I am taking this with me.”

“Oi!”

“Sleep, Jensen. Seriously.”

He grumbled, but squirmed down into the bed, grumpy.

Pooch sighed, leaving the room, taking the book with him.

Jensen waited til he was gone, then dug into the chicken soup, dragging the next book in the pile – one of the Sookie Stackhouse books, he really wasn’t sure which one – out from under his pillow, and started reading.

\---

Jensen had actually fallen asleep, reading one of his books. Half sitting up in bed, _Dracula_ lay across his chest, braced to the section in which the count explained what he was to poor Jonathan Harker.

Cougar stepped silently into the room, cowboy boots oddly not making a sound on the old, creaky hardwood floors as he padded through the half light, flicking off the single bedside lamp on Jensen’s bedside table. Abruptly the room was plunged into darkness, the only light the bit of the moonlight coming in through the window and the green alarm light. 

He delicately plucked the book out of Jensen’s hands, considering it. 

Smiling softly, he set the book on the dresser, then sat on the edge of the mattress, reaching up to gently slide Jensen’s glasses off of his face, folding them closed, gently, then set them on the dresser as well. 

Jensen shifted slightly on the bed, mouth falling open, sighing softly.

He smirked, leaning closer. 

Without seeming to realize it, Jensen curled closer to his friend, even though he wasn’t as warm as he usually was, hand falling onto Cougar’s leg, open and vulnerable, completely trusting, even in sleep.

Cougar’s eyes almost glowed red, and his nostrils flared as he actually breathed, drawing in his scent.

“…Cougs?” he murmured, eyes cracking open a little, blearily.

“Si, chico,” the other purred, and Jensen shivered. Leaning closer to him, he gently cupped Jensen’s jaw, fingers curling against the still-stubbled chin, leaning closer to drift his lips across Jensen’s jaw, then down his throat. 

“C-Cougar?”

“Ssh,” he purred, barely making a sound as he scraped his teeth across the other’s soft skin, a few small droplets of blood breaking from the skin.

Jensen bolted up, gasping, heart pounding, lungs burning as he looked sharply over at Cougar’s bed.

The sniper was sitting on the bed, licking the tip of his finger before he turned the page of Dracula, reading over the next section.

Reaching up to rub at his neck, Jensen frowned. He couldn’t feel any marks, and he couldn’t find any blood. It must have been a dream. It _had_ to have been a dream. Because even if he was right, and Cougar _was_ a vampire… he wouldn’t want _him_.

Cougar looked up, abruptly, as though knowing what he was thinking, and smirked.

Jensen swallowed, and dove back into his pillows, trying to pretend to sleep.

“…what the hell?”

Jensen looked up, frowning as he slammed the meat tenderizer down on another full head of garlic. “What?”

“What are you _doing_?” Clay set the back of his hand against his nose, eyes narrowed as he headed into the kitchen, moving vaguely sideways as though moving that way lessened the smell. “Trying to marinade us all in the air, so that we’re more edible, or something?”

“Ha. I’m making pizza.”

“Pizza.”

Jensen slammed the meat hammer down again, crunching another head of garlic, cloves flying everywhere. He scooped them up, and added them to the sizeable pile of the spice. “Yep. Pizza.”

“You’ve forgotten something. Like the crust. And the meat, the sauce, the cheese… basically, you’ve forgotten everything but the _garlic_ , Jenny.”

“Ooops.” He said cheerfully, smashing another one.

“…okay, what’s really going on here? Seriously?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged, piling the cloves.

“What, we trying to give Dracula food poisoning?” he joked, weakly, leaning on the edge of the table, still crinkling his nose as he tried not to smell the strong odor. 

“Actually…”

He groaned. “Oh no. Not this again. The thing in that video was _not_ a vampire, Jenny, you are _actually_ still supposed to be figuring out what that thing is so that we can go _home_ and stop hanging around this damn safe house, remember? There are other things that can be going on, and it’s not something… what do you call it… supernatural?”

Jensen turned to look at Clay, pointing at him. “Look, Cougs is my best friend. I would trust the guy with my _life_ , and you know it. But he tried to _eat_ me!”

Clay blinked. “…what?”

“He tried to _eat_ me.”

“… _Pooch_?!” Clay called, turning towards the door. “Get in here!”

The driver entered slowly, hand over his lower face. “ _Damn_ it reeks in here!”

“Yeah. I thought we agreed that Jensen wasn’t getting anymore… anything? Ever? He just accused Cougar of trying to eat him.”

“Is _that_ why we’re being slowly killed with garlic?” Pooch crinkled his nose, displeased, shaking his head. “Okay, Jenny, remember what we talked about the other day? Vampires aren’t real, and Cougar isn’t one. Acceptable?”

“No,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I just gotta play it safe.”

Cougar drifted into the kitchen, blinking slightly.

“Hey, Cougar. We need to talk.” Clay turned to look at the sniper, ignoring the desperate, wide eyed way that Jensen was gesturing for him to _not_ do exactly what he was doing. “Jensen has in some way been apparently mentally _damaged_ , and now he thinks you’re a vampire who wants to eat him. Find a way to convince him to not be an idiot about this.”

Cougar blinked, glancing at Jensen.

Jensen flushed, and muttered, “Well, it was the natural conclusion to reach…”

The sniper snorted.

“Exactly.” Clay sighed, apparently relieved by that, and shook his head, pushing off the counter. “Now. Jenny. Get rid of that damn _garlic_ , then get to work on that video. Remember how we wanted to figure out what is after us so we can kill it then _go home_? Pooch wants to see his wife and kid. Got it?”

“No need for the guilt trip,” Jensen muttered.

Pooch snickered, clapping Jensen’s shoulder. “Relax, kiddo. Just… get that all figured out, okay? So we can go home?”

He nodded, flushed.

“Thanks,” he sighed, and headed out of the kitchen, following Clay out, leaving Jensen and Cougar alone in the kitchen with the massive pile of garlic.

Jensen cleared his throat. “So, um… any… advice on where to look? For what is trying to kill us?”

“Not.” He shrugged. 

He sighed. “I’m pretty sure that thing _is_ trying to kill us, Cougs…”

“No.” He pushed off the counter he was leaning on, and headed closer to Jensen, completely unphased by the garlic, strong scent and all. “Just me.”

Jensen looked up, sharply, eyes wide, meeting Cougar’s. They were still bright red, bloody and bright. “What – ?”

He smirked, and Cougar stepped up to his chest, teeth bared. Sharp, canines curled inwards to tear and puncture teeth bared at him. 

“Holy shit, Cougs, you’re – !”

Cougar tangled his fingers in the front of Jensen’s shirt, tugging him forward a little, snapping at his throat, just breaking the skin a little in the side, and setting the flat of his tongue against the skin, licking a stripe up Jensen’s throat, licking up the little bit of blood that was exposed when he did. 

Jensen groaned, unconsciously, clutching at the other’s shirt, pulling him _closer_ , not pushing him away.

“Mine,” Cougar growled.

“I talked to Cougar.”

Clay looked up from his own laptop, blinking. “…really?”

He nodded, squirming. “Sorta. I mean, you know Cougs never really _talks_ , but… you know. We talked.”

The commanding officer nodded, considering him. “And…?”

“Well. Way he tells it… we’re not in danger right now. The guy that got him isn’t going to come back for us. He just wanted Cougs, and since he _got_ him, he doesn’t need us.”

Leaning back in his chair, Clay crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t get me wrong, Jenny, that’s a great thing for him to say, but you know it doesn’t work like that. We gotta find this guy, and we gotta find him quick. Someone attacks one of the losers, they attack all the losers.”

“I know,” he sighed, “But I trust him. If he says we’re safe, we’re safe.”

“You trust Cougar.” He arched a brow. “Yesterday, you were claiming he was a vampire who wanted to drain your blood.”

Jensen flushed. “Just trust me, okay?”

“I can’t, Jenny, this is – “

“Cougar wouldn’t lie to me. Sir.” He cut in, interrupting him. “You know that. We’re safe. We can go home.”

Clay hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. But you’re going home with Cougar, then, to keep an eye on him.”

Jensen snorted, pushing himself off the wall he’d braced himself on. “Convenient, since we share an apartment.”

“I thought so.”

“Yeah, yeah – “ Jensen started to walk out of the room when he was halted by their team leader calling his name again. Turning to face Clay, he waited, watching him.

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he squirmed, shifting from foot to foot.

“Because I have made a career of knowing when something is wrong. A day ago you were freaking out about him. Now you ‘re claiming everything’s fine. Are you _sure_ you’re okay, Jensen?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Clay nodded. “You call me, you understand, if you need any help?”

He nodded again.

“Good man,” he nodded, smiling tightly. “Go tell Pooch the good news.”


	4. Closer - Part Four

  
The drive back into the city wasn’t usually long, but Pooch had said he needed the car, and Clay had taken the other vehicle they’d used for the mission, which left Jensen and Cougar somewhat helpless and stranded. Well. Frustrated and inconvenienced, really. 

So they’d climbed on a train when Pooch dropped them off at the station, and headed off towards the city central. Since the train made so many stops, it took much longer than usual to get towards Brooklyn and their little townhouse. Sure, it was small and a little worn, but it was in a gorgeous old strip of townhouses, and it was easy for them to disappear in their little block – the Spanish speaking man in the cowboy hat, and his tall, strapping, awkwardly geeky friend in the glasses. They told people they were brothers. People laughed and expected it.

Jensen tried to focus on his laptop and the movie he was playing for himself and Cougar – not that the man sitting silently beside him, staring out the window, seemed to be paying attention – but he was tired from not sleeping ahell of a lot lately, and slowly started slumping into Cougar.

Cougar glanced over at him, quietly, and smirked slightly as Jensen’s head finally landed on his shoulder, and his glasses started to slide down his nose.

Reaching up, he slid the round lensed glasses off of Jensen’s nose, and hooked the arm on his own t-shirt. Closing and setting aside the laptop, the sniper welcomed it when the blond sleepily snuggled into him, yawning like a kitten. Idly running his fingers through Jensen’s hair, he returned to looking out the window, silent, ready to leap back into sitting stoically and stern if Jensen showed even the slightest hint of waking.

“So I’ve been thinking.”

Cougar glanced over at Jensen as he set his duffle down on their ratty, tattered couch, considering him.

“You’re a vampire, right?”

Cougar snorted.

“I’ll take that as a yes. So yeah, I’ve been thinking. You probably don’t like sunlight very much, right? I mean… you don’t burst into flames, or anything, I know, cause we had to walk through the sun back there, but… you kinda hid, right? So that probably means that sleeping during the day would be a lot better for you than sleeping at night would be, right?”

The other considered that, then nodded, shifting his cowboy hat back on his head a little. 

“There we go. So an idea, right there, is to put you to bed when the nasty day star is burning, and then we can stay away all night.”

“We, chico?”

He glanced at Cougar, blinking. “Well, _yeah_. I mean, you’re my best friend. _And_ my roommate. So if I slept at night, you’d be friggin’ bored, and if you slept during the day, _I’d_ be friggin’ bored. So we both sleep during the day, and then we stay awake at night. Then we try and find a reliable place for you to get a source of blood, cause I hate to tell you this, but I ain’t got enough blood in me to keep you alive, and I’d _really_ rather you didn’t nom on the people of our fair city, so…” he scratched his jaw. “I’m thinking butcher shops. I know it’s probably crappy because it’s just animal blood, but if it worked for Angel…”

“Qui?”

“Oh, it’s a geek thing,” he waved it off. “Buffy. You know, a coroner might be a better idea, but I don’t really have a connection to any coroners… hn.”

Cougar nodded, stepping over to the window, peering out of it at the city below.

“Right, so… yeah. That’s what I was thinking.” Jensen said, scratching his jaw again. “Are you gonna turn me into a vampire?”

The other glanced at him. “Mm?”

Jensen squirmed, and demanded, “Are you going to turn me into a vampire? Is that what you want? To have a vampire friend?”

Cougar turned around properly, leaning on the window as he watched him, eyes burning red in the dim light of the only light Jensen had bothered to turn on when they’d arrived, a lamp by the door. It was odd, that he looked exactly the same as he always had. Jensen had always figured that vampires were supposed to be really different from humans. But instead, there his best friend stood, whip thin as always, on a hair trigger as always, able to assess a situation in seconds as always. The only difference seemed to be those damn eyes. “…maybe.”

Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, he asked, “Maybe?”

Cougar shrugged, pushing off the window, and heading towards his bedroom, scooping up his duffle as he did. “Maybe.”

Jensen sighed, shoving his glasses up his nose. “Well, that’s not creepy at all.”

There was a snort from the other room.

He grinned.

Crouched on the edge of the rooftop, Jensen narrowed his eyes as he bent a little closer to the scope of the rifle, reaching up with his index finger to shove his glasses further up his nose. 

“Breathe, chico,” Cougar murmured, kneeling behind him, and crouching closer to Jensen one hand on his shoulder, the other resting on the wall immediately beside the rifle. “Focus on the gun, on the sight, focus on the target. It is like pool, remember?”

Jensen nodded, licking his lips. 

“You taught me pool,” Cougar reminded him, leaning closer, his lips almost on Jensen’s neck. “Do you remember, in that little bar in Paris?”

“Sure,” he murmured. “But you’re not Cougar. You’re talking too much.”

“You are right, of course, as always.” He shifted closer, pressing against Jensen’s back, guiding his arms into the proper position, lifting his elbow gently to help him aim properly. “And wrong, at the same time. I have been delving in your Cougar’s mind in his dreams, and while I am not him right now…”

“What, you’re his subconscious?” he smirked, squirming. “Is that why you’re shoving his cock at my ass?”

“He’d rather be shoving it in,” the other said, lips against the nape of his neck.

“Bullshit.”

“You doubt me, little human? You are but a foolish child. Cougar will train you in the error of your ways.”

“Now that sounds like a Count Dracula speech.” Jensen frowned, considering his target through the scope. “Wait… is that _Clay_?! I’m not going to shoot Clay!”

Cougar-not-Cougar roared behind him, and in a flurry of motion, Jensen suddenly found himself on his back, the butt of the rifle he’d been holding just a moment before aimed at the space between Jensen’s eyebrows, cold butt of the rifle against his skin. “You will do what I tell you to do.”

“No,” he gasped. “I won’t.”

“I _will_ kill you.”

Jensen frowned, and pointed out, starting to understand, finally, “You kill me in every dream anyway. So kill me again. I’ll wake up screaming, and Cougar will know. Because he doesn’t know you’re doing this, does he? He doesn’t know you’re killing me in my dreams.”

Cougar’s eyes narrowed, and – whatever it was that had taken his body over – spun the rifle, setting the butt under his own jaw. “Then I’ll kill him.”

“No.” he bolted up, eyes wide.

“No?” 

“No!” he cried, trying to get up. “Don’t – don’t _do_ that – “

“What will you do, Jensen… to keep this man you love intact?” the thing in Cougar’s body drawled, smirking. 

“I don’t lo – “

“Don’t lie to me, boy, or he dies.”

Jensen shut up, immediately, glasses starting to slide down his sweaty nose. He knew he was dreaming, now, but he had no idea what would happen to Cougar if this… _thing_ killed him in his dreams. Maybe he was just a figment of his dream, maybe nothing would happen. But if this… vampire thing _wasn’t_ lying to him, and he _was_ mussing around in Cougar’s head… what would it do to him? 

“What. Will. You. Do.”

“Anything,” he whispered.

“Good.” The gun swung around again, barrel barely having time to face Jensen before the Cougar-not-Cougar fired and the bullet pierced and shattered his skull with a sick crunch.

Jensen howled in horror, fingers curled in the sheets.

He wanted to bolt from his bed, to scramble to the room next door, to dash to Cougar, to make sure that his best friend was all right, was safe, was not dead or destroyed. He needed to know, but his limbs felt like they had gone completely stiff, immobile. He needed to go, but he couldn’t _move_.

“Drink,” a soft, accented voice murmured as a cool ceramic mug was pressed to his lips.

Jensen whimpered, but swallowed obediently as a warm, metallic liquid slipped over his lips and down his throat. He didn’t question how Cougar had gotten there so fast. Cougar was a vampire now. He was fast. Heart and mind racing, all he could concentrate on was that Cougar was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding the mug, feeding him carefully.

Setting the cup down a moment later, Cougar’s cool, room temperature hand curled on the side of his neck, and he nodded, softly. 

“You’re okay?” Jensen murmured. “You’re still okay, Cougs?”

He nodded. 

“Okay. You scared me. I mean, you didn’t scare me. The dreams scared me. You know what it’s like. Remember when I had those nightmares in Beirut? After that fire storm? That’s… it’s kinda like that, again. And you fed me milk, remember, when I couldn’t move, and Clay said maybe I’d have to quit the team or something, and… you kept feeding me milk, every time I screamed. Until,” he laughed, weakly, trembling, “Until I developed lactose intolerance. And then I got over the nightmares pretty quick, so you’d stop feeding it to me. I still scream when I see milk though.”

Cougar snorted, and pressed his forehead to Jensen’s, which was the first time he noticed his friend wasn’t wearing his cowboy hat. 

“You didn’t feed me milk this time,” he whispered.

The other shook his head. 

“What did you – ?”

“Sleep.” Cougar stood, and pushed him back to the bed, holding Jensen firmly when he tried to sit back up, eyes firm and insistent. “Sleep, chico.”

“I don’t want to sleep, Cougar, I want to know what you - ?”

The look he gave him didn’t brook any arguments, and Jensen slowly relaxed down into the pillows. “Okay. I’m sleeping. I’m being good. I’m a good little computer hacker.”

He smirked, and picked up the mug, leaving the room.

“…you fed me blood, didn’t you?” he called after him.

“Sleep!”

“You doing okay, Jensen?”

He sighed, heavily, leaning on the wall in the kitchen, peering out the window over the sink out at their street-lamp lighted street. Their van sat at the curb in front of their little townhouse, as battered and rusty as ever, and he idly wondered if Cougar had remembered to update the registration. He hated having to deal with being booted. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

He couldn’t see Clay, but he could hear him scowling at him through the phone. “Because I’m worried about you.”

“I’m not going to go crazy, sir. I’m not going to do anything stupid, I’m not going to do anything other than hang out here and sleep and play Halo with Cougs, okay? And _yes_ , before you ask, I’m still looking to try and figure out who kidnapped him. I know you want that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

He nodded, shoving his glasses further up his nose. “So I’m still looking. I think I know what he looks like now… not a photo though, cause it’s too… blurry. I sketched it. Want me to send you the sketch?”

“…a sketch.”

“Look, I know it ain’t much, but maybe Aisha recognizes him or something…” he scratched his nose, frowning. “It’s like a criminal game of Guess Who. Does he have a mustache? Nope, my guy doesn’t have a mustache…”

“I get it,” Clay cut him off, impatiently. “Send it. I’ll take a look. Keep working on an identity.”

“Yeah, sure… would really help if I had a name,” he snorted.

“Benjamin.” Cougar said as he leaned into the fridge, peering into it, considering the contents. He pronounced it unusually, like “Been-ja-meen.” He looked displeased, then straightened, pulling the lid off a small margarine tub, and sipping at its bloody contents. 

“Oh. Well then. His name is Benjamin.”

“Benjamin,” Clay repeated, pronouncing it like it was typically pronounced. Cougar winced as though he could hear what Clay had said, which Jensen realized he probably could.

“No, Been-ja-meen,” he pronounced it firmly. “Cougs says so.”

“Well then.”

“Mmm, so I’ll email that sketch now, and you’ll call me if you find us another job?”

There was a moment of hesitation.

“Clay? Sir? Another job?”

Cougar considered Jensen seriously, watching him carefully, then shook his head. Stepping forward, he clapped Jensen’s shoulder, firmly. Smirking he then nodded, and headed off after reassuring his friend that _he_ , at least, had faith in him. Even if their commanding officer thought he was going insane. 

“Sure. In a bit. Take a break.”

“…didn’t I already point out that I am _not_ cracking up?”

“I know. Just focus on that video.”

He sighed heavily, looking over at his teammate, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, sir. I’ll talk to you later.”


	5. Closer - Part Five

  
He’d always figured that having a vampire roommate would be really weird. 

Like, bats hanging from the rafters, smoke curling in the corners of rooms, or… something. Cougar and him slept during the day, sure, but they sat on the couch playing video games still, and they ordered pizza in still, and Cougar would still humour his bizarre explanations of the complicated computer programs he was running and inventing. The only difference was the mugs in the sink had blood stains around the bottom, instead of coffee. 

And the _really_ weird thing was that Cougar didn’t seem to be making any overtures at wanting to drink his blood. Weren’t vampires supposed to be bloodthirsty, savage monsters?

Jensen was beginning to suspect that all of his popular culture lessons had been very very wrong.

“So,” he asked, abruptly, as he leaned to the side, punching buttons feverishly. He was, as usual, kicking Cougar’s _ass_ in Halo, which was always fun. Sure, Cougar kicked him in straight on shooting games, but as he gleefully pointed out every time he played against the sniper, Cougar couldn’t drive vehicles for the life of him. “Do you like… get a “game face” when you “vamp out”?”

Cougar gave him a look of incredulity. 

“I mean, do your face muscles change, or whatever, and get all… grr… argh. Or your teeth get longer, or your eyes change colour, or…?”

The other blinked at him several times, before saying, “No.”

Jensen considered that. “Damn.”

He just snorted.

He smirked slightly, ducking his onscreen avatar into a hallway on screen. “Your teeth don’t get longer at all? Cause I mean… they’re not really very long right now, are they?”

Shifting his cowboy hat on his head, he shook his head. 

“So what, is this more like the vampires from like… _30 Days of Night_ , you just like… rip people’s throats out and scarf on them? Is _that_ why you haven’t been feeding on me? Because you’d basically have to rip me to pieces and kill me to drink from me?”

Cougar didn’t answer, but his jaw was grit tightly as he slammed down on the buttons on his controller, and abruptly fired into Jensen’s character at close range.

“Oi!” he yelped. “Holy crap!”

The other tossed his controller onto the coffee table, then stood, marching towards the kitchen. Pausing the game – he was dead anyway – Jensen watched him through the open doorway, biting his lip. Stooping to reach into the fridge, Cougar tugged a plastic milk jug full of _some_ kind of liquid from a cow, though definitely _not_ milk, out of the fridge. Pouring it into a mug, the sniper tossed it in the microwave. There was a jerkiness to Cougar’s movements, more than normal, like he was frustrated, and trying to keep Jensen from noticing that he was. Which, really, was stupid. Jensen was good at noticing when Cougar was feeling something. He had to be, since Cougar didn’t exactly speak.

A few minutes later, Cougar headed back into the living room, sipping at the mug, brows furrowed. 

“Cougs?”

He grunted, noncommittally. 

“You know, I’ve watched that video of you getting kidnapped like eight million times. The vampire that got you, he was… really fast, right? So that probably means that you can move super fast, right? I mean, I’m pretty sure you did that the other day, when I was doing my little freak out thing. How come you don’t just do that all the time? Wouldn’t that just be kinda, you know… awesome? So how come?”

Abruptly, Cougar wasn’t standing in the door, he was standing between Jensen’s knees, one hand on the hacker’s chest, shoving him back against the couch. Red eyes narrowed at him, only inches from his, Jensen squeaked, heart pounding so loud he swore he couldn’t hear anything but it. 

“See?” Cougar muttered, and stepped back.

“Oh. Good reason.” Jensen panted.

“Hi.”

Cougar looked up, lazily, from the mug he was sipping on, and nodded. Red eyes flicking away from Jensen, he watched the television again, watching as Chef Ramsey screamed his tow head off at some idiot cooks.

Jensen took a deep breath, and marched over to sit beside him on the couch, reaching over to pluck the mug from Cougar’s fingers. 

The other frowned. 

Sniffing at the mug, he nodded. “Blood, huh? You drinking cow blood again, like you were, or have you finally upgraded? I mean, there’s gotta be a morgue in the city that specializes in handing out human blood to cool vampires, right? There’s gotta be a market… I mean, if you exist, and the guy who turned you exists, there’s gotta be enough of a vampire community that would need it…”

Cougar snatched his mug back from Jensen, frowning.“….si.”

“Thought so. Is that what you fed me the other night? Microwaved human blood?”

The sniper shook his head, sipping at his drink, his food.

“You sure? Cause it smells the same…”

He nodded, shrugging with one shoulder. 

Jensen pursed his lips, considering that, scratching his jaw. He had always considered himself a bit of an expert on obscure things – after all, he _was_ a geek. He was no full on genius, or anything, but… he knew his _stuff_ , that was really all there was to it. And yeah, that meant geeky movies and books and shows, which often involved things like, well, _vampires_. 

Which is when a strange realization crossed his mind.

“…you fed me _your_ blood!”

Cougar didn’t even blink. He was still sipping at his glass, attention on Hell’s Kitchen, ignoring Jensen completely. Mostly. Jensen knew Cougar well enough that even with his rapid speed, he knew that the other had flicked his eyes at him quickly, considering him just in case.

“You totally _did_ ,” he said, gaping at him.

He shrugged. 

“Why would you _do_ that?!” Jensen bolted forward, alarmed. All he could think of was that moment in his most recent, creepy dream. Benjamin, the vampire sire, he’d suggested that Cougar felt more towards Jensen than he’d thought he did… was this some twisted vampire way of showing affection? By feeding them their _blood_? “Are you trying to turn me?”

Cougar’s eyes flicked over to him again, but stayed on him this time. 

“You _are_ , aren’t you?!”

“…and?”

Jensen gaped at his best friend for a long moment, jaw hanging. 

Cougar sipped at his bloody mug, quietly, waiting.

“I – um… well, shit, I guess I should’ve kinda expected this. I mean… you kinda warned me, didn’t you? I mean, you _told_ me you might turn me… shit. Well, I mean… immortal life wouldn’t be _so_ bad… well, cept for the whole blood thing… well… except that at least I’d have company… nngh, this is hard…”

The sniper waited for his friend to babble himself to a decision, not that he looked terribly _worried_ about what the decision would be. 

“Did you know that Benjamin is fucking in your head in your dreams?” he asked, abruptly, wanting to just know.

Cougar nodded.

“Oh. Did you know he’s fucking in _my_ head in my dreams?”

The other flinched sharply, despite his normal stoic calm, and nodded again, still sipping at his mug. He looked visibly pained, and Jensen realized that it was this knowledge that had probably led to Cougar’s presence in his room the night before. Cougar _knew_ that Dean was getting tormented, _knew_ that he was struggling with this _man_ screwing with him.

“Did he… do that before…?”

The sniper shrugged with one shoulder, and nodded. 

“…does he want to turn me, too?”

His jaw jutted slightly, and he glanced at the blond, nodding. 

Jensen slumped back in his seat, feeling sort of cold and hollow inside. It was an alarming feeling, like someone had scooped out his inside bits with a melon baller, leaving him sort of an empty shell of a person. Sure, he wasn’t entirely against the idea of this whole vampirism thing, if only because, well, hell, immortal youth alongside his best friend? Kind of attractive. But the idea of being turned by the twisted vampire who kept _killing_ him in his dreams, _while_ wearing his best friend’s _face_ … _that_ was far less attractive.

“Um… if I asked really nice, would you turn me first?”

Cougar smirked.

“I mean… really… what do I gotta do? I’ll do it.” He shifted closer to his friend, hopefully. “Do I gotta get buried? You gotta bite me? Do I have to commit suicide and be buried at a crossroad? We gotta drink each other’s blood?” At Cougar’s strange expression, he shrugged. “I’m a geek, remember? I kinda did some research. There are a lot of different ways that people get turned into vampires.”

The sniper snorted, and simply leaned closer to Jensen, pressing his lips against his, not much more than a bare pressing of lips to lips. 

“Oh.” He breathed. 

Smirking against his lips, Cougar kissed him a little harder, shifting his lips against Jensen’s, reaching up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing against the other’s cheekbone. 

“Never heard of being turned by kissing,” Jensen breathed.

Cougar snorted.

“I know. Really wanna be stuck with this ass forever?” he laughed softly. 

Plucking Jensen’s glasses off his face, Cougar pushed him back onto the ratty couch, crawling onto his lap and pinning his thighs to the cushions as he started kissing him again, firmly, possessively. 

“Okay… apparently…” he breathed.

“ _Callate_ ,” he muttered. 

“Did you just tell me to shut up in Spanish?” Jensen smirked slightly, amused. “Cause that is the least romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. Honestly.”

Cougar quirked a brow.

“Okay, true, not _the_ least romantic thing ever, but you’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”

“ _Callate_.” He said again, then smirked. _“Por favor_.”

He grinned. “Much better, vampire man. Cause I mean, really, if you’re planning on fucking me for eternity, a little _kindness_ in your Spanish is appreciated.”

The sniper snorted.

“So… what do we do now?” Jensen asked, nervously. He felt kind of out of place, in Cougar’s room. Usually, if they were in any room other than the living room, they were in _his_ , flopped on his bed as they watched movies on his laptop or something. 

Cougar’s place seemed almost different than he would have expected. It was done in stylish black and whites and silvers, with framed shadowboxes with exotic butterflies in them. He thought it was kind of stylish and attractive, honestly. But lying there on the bed with its cushy black duvet, Jensen felt sort of like the fly invited into the spider’s parlor. “I mean… do you just bite me? Or…?”

Crawling onto the bed with him, Cougar began kissing Jensen again, deeply, possessively. 

Groaning, he reached up to loop his arms around the other’s neck, arching into him. It wasn’t as though making out with Cougar was something he considered. Often. Or whenever he was bored. Or whenever he saw Cougar kissing some girl in Bolivia, or whenever he was in the shower, trying to “take care of business”. Of course not. That would be… okay, so he did. He lived with the guy, and he’d seen his pursing those lips as he fired shots enough times to make him _curious_ , at least, if not slightly obsessed. 

“Jensen,” Cougar breathed, making him shiver.

“Y-yeah, Cougs?” he panted, fingers tangled in Cougar’s hair, trembling as he looked up at him, glasses fogged, hair rumpled, cheeks flushed.

“ _Te amo_ ,” he said gently. 

Even across the language barrier Jensen could recognize the love in that statement. A little stunned and completely flattered, he murmured, “ _Wow_.”

Cougar smirked, then bent to nip at Jensen’s jaw, drawing blood. He lapped it up as the blond squirmed, then kissed his way down his throat to press a soft press of lips to his jugular. “ _Te quiero_ ,” he murmured, softly, almost breathily despite the fact that he didn’t breathe himself.

“What’s th-that one?” he murmured, fingers still tangled in Cougar’s hair, holding his head against his throat.

He lifted his head, pupils blown in his red eyes. “I want you.”

“O-oh…” he breathed, shakily.

“ _Si_?” 

“Oh, that’s a _big_ si,” he panted, grinning at Cougar.

He smirked, then a predatory look suddenly surged onto the sniper’s face, and he bared his teeth, which looked a hell of a lot more sharp and dangerous than they had _before_ , when he had his mouth still closed. Swooping down, he sank those sharp and tearing teeth into Jensen’s throat, blood gushing into his mouth.

Jensen cried out in shock and pain, arching hard into Cougar. 

Apparently all of his research was ridiculously wrong, because almost all of the canons _he’d_ researched had suggested that being turned into a vampire was brilliant and sexy and felt really good. _This_ was agony. He felt like he was being torn and ripped apart, and could feel every time Cougar moved his jaw and those terrible teeth even the smallest micrometer. 

Cougar drank, eagerly, desperately, as the flow shifted from spurting to slowly ebbing to trickling. 

Finally, he unclenched his jaws from the other’s skin, and sat back, and tore a gash in his own wrist with his teeth, ripping it deep, messily, tendons exposed. Tilting Jensen’s chin back with his fingers, he tilted his hand so that the blood dripping rapidly and messily from his wrist slid into Jensen’s mouth and down what was left of his throat. 

Jensen’s body tried to swallow, instinctively, but his eyes were already blank, and most of the blood seemed to sit in his mouth, unswallowed, til it started just running out of his mouth and down to soak the bed.

Cougar kept pouring the blood until he heard Jensen’s heart stop, and lay back down beside him, curled with his head on Jensen’s chest, licking at his wrist, idly.

“I am _not_ happy.”

Jensen blinked at the ceiling above him, a little confused. It looked like the paintings in the Sistine chapel. Why was he in the Sistine chapel?

“Look at me,” the voice snapped, and he rolled his head, which felt very heavy, towards the voice, blinking up at Cougar – who he was pretty sure was actually not-Cougar. “I am _not_ happy.”

“Benjamin,” he rasped, a little surprised at how terrible his voice sounded. 

He scowled, and Cougar’s familiar, comforting features shifted to that of the man he’d seen before in his dreams – the tall, intimidating Egyptian man. “I was going to turn you. I liked your spunk. Your little spark of… rebellion. Your intelligence. Even your idiocy, which seems to show itself more often than not lately… but I _expressly_ told your Cougar that _I_ was going to turn you.”

Considering him, Jensen was a little surprised how remarkably calm he felt about all of this. Maybe it was because he was dead.

He _was_ dead, right?

“I’m kinda glad Cougs did it, really.” He shrugged, hands folded on his stomach. “Am I on a sarcophagus?”

Benjamin ignored the question. “You realize that I am going to have to punish you both.”

“Sounds kinky.” He sat up, considering the room. “I _am_ on a sarcophagus. I’m in a mausoleum, aren’t I? Shit, that’s kinda cool. I mean, you’re scary and all, Benjamin. But you’re not here. We’re in my head. And I know from experience that you can kill me all sorts of ways in my head, and I just wake up screaming again.”

The vampire looked furious and sort of flustered, like he hadn’t expected Jensen to grow a backbone.

Reaching up to touch his throat, Jensen groaned. “Shit… I am gonna have an epic scar. Eh…. Chicks dig scars. No wait… I’m not supposed to care about that any more. _Cougar_ will dig the scar. That’s the one. Wait… does this make me your _grandfather_?” he looked up at the other.

Benjamin hissed in anger, a bit like a snake, and fisted his fingers in Jensen’s short hair, teeth bared. “When I find you…”

He gasped, arching slightly.

“You will pay, Jensen. And then I will force you to submit, and you will obey me. Do you understand me, little youngling?”

Jensen swallowed, and nodded. _Now_ he was scared.

“Good. I will make my family. And you and your Cougar will sit at my right and left hands.”

“Nngh,” he whimpered.

“No.” Cougar appeared behind Benjamin, teeth bared. “ _No lo haremos. He encontrado la manera de matarlo_.”

Benjamin started to turn, fingers loosening in Jensen’s hair.

The blond bolted back, trying to get away from him, scrambling back until his ass hit the sarcophagus again, and said, aloud, a little confused, “Did you just offer to do his hair, or tell him you know how to kill him?”

Cougar’s teeth sank into the back of Benjamin’s neck, and he wrenched his head back, the vampire’s _spine_ in his teeth.

“Oh.” Jensen blinked. “You know how to kill him.”

“No!” Benjamin howled, but it sounded slightly gurgled as he slumped, and dropped to the floor like a broken ragdoll, struggling to rise. “No… this is only dreams…”

“No.” Cougar threw the spine, nose curled.

“That was so gross.” The blond muttered, pushing his glasses up on his nose. There was blood everywhere, including splattered across his glasses. “Ew, it’s still moving. Is this just a dream again? Am I going to wake up in bed again, and everything’ll be normal?”

Stepping over the twitching vampire, Cougar offered Jensen his hand.

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Cougar smirked, and lead Jensen over the slightly moving body, and lead him out of the mausoleum, into a dark cemetery and into the fresh air of night. 

“…oh. Weird. You know… that fight was kind of anticlimactic, if this _isn’t_ a dream, and it’s over… is it over? I mean… are we safe, now?”

“No.” Cougar turned to look at him, and he was abruptly Benjamin again.

Jensen woke screaming.

But this time, Cougar was stroking his hair, gently, murmuring soft nonsense he didn’t understand in Spanish, and soon he slumped back to the bloody pillows, eyes half lidded. 

There was a soft whistling in the air, then another of the heavily armed security guards from the building dropped to the pavement outside the building. Looking up at the roof of the building in the darkness, Jensen smirked, pleased. 

“ _Good job_ ,” a voice crackled in their ear pieces, and Jensen grinned, touching the microphone on his neck.

“ _De nada_ , _boss_.”

“ _Don’t you go doing the Spanish thing too. I get enough of that from Cougar and Pooch_ ,” Clay ordered. “ _Good job, Cougar_.”

“ _De nada_ ,” Cougar answered, amusement in his voice.

Pooch glanced over at Jensen, smirking at the blond on his laptop. “You’re driving the boss man crazy, Jenny.”

“His fault for putting me on leave for three months.” He smirked.

Laughing, Pooch nodded. “True. He did bring it in on himself. Besides… he’s been pissy since Aisha burned down their latest place.”

Jensen smirked.

“That, and he _is_ the one who put you and Cougar in the same bunk five years ago, so…”

Clay climbed into the back seat, slamming the door. “Dumbest move I ever made.”

Grinning, Jensen touched his mic again, then said cheerfully, “See you at home, Cougs. _Te amo_.”

“ _Te quiero_ ,” the other answered, and Jensen was able to ignore the groans of their teammates as he grinned up at the rooftop in the darkness, pleased. Screw them. Cougar and him had a nice bottle of O Pos waiting for them at home, and no one had noticed yet that he and Cougar were killing their targets manually. 

Who needed a gun when they could rip someone’s throat out at supersonic speeds?

Unlife was good. 

Very good.

And he planned on enjoying it for… oh, ever?

  



End file.
